Take A Break
Warnings: escape, referenced captivity, referenced torture, broken bones, caretaker and whumpee, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort
“Whumpee, Whumpee, let’s stop. Take a break.” Caretaker was tired. Their legs ached, their lungs burned from running for so long. Surely they had gotten far enough away from Whumper’s compound to be able to take a break.
“C-C-Can’t stoppp,” Whumpee panted as they collapsed against a tree. They cradled their mutilated hand close. Caretaker would never forget the sound of Whumper’s hammer coming down on Whumpee’s hand. Never forget the sound of Whumpee’s screams.
“We need a break. I need a break.” You need a break. Whumpee’s skin was ghostly under the moonlight. Caretaker wasn’t entirely certain that Whumpee wasn’t on the edge of passing out.
“O-O-Ok,” Whumpee whispered as they slid down the tree until they were sitting. “F-Few minutes,” their eyelids drooped.
“Stay awake, Whumpee,” Caretaker murmured as they sat down next to Whumpee. They feared that if Whumpee passed out Whumpee wouldn’t wake up again.
Whumpee had taken the brunt of Whumper’s ire. Had taken the brunt of the torture. All the while Caretaker could do nothing but watch. And the days of torture had weighed heavily on Whumpee’s body and on Caretaker’s soul. “Please, just stay awake. We’ll catch our breath, then we’ll keep going.”
“‘mkay,” Whumpee whispered. They leaned heavily on Caretaker, blinking furiously to stay awake. “‘m ‘ake,” they said as their eyelids drooped once more.
Caretaker gave Whumpee’s uninjured arm a squeeze. “Not too much farther. Just a few minutes. Catch our breath. Then we’ll be home. You’ll see.”
